Life is…
I just finished reading Bayo Akomolafe's wonderful book These Wilds Beyond Our Fences, a series of letters he's written to his daughter as he explores his (as well as our) search for home. The book is a wonderful journey into the exploration of this thing we call life, which makes it (in my mind) a great companion for all of us, regardless of our station, role, and/or work in the world.
Towards the end, I came across this passage. It pretty much speaks for itself, but I've got some inquiries I'd love to invite you into if you're interested. Mostly, I wanted to share his words.
Here they are:
“Life is not a ladder, whose topmost rung is more valuable than the ones before it; life is not a race to see who crosses the finish line first; life is not a circle with a discernible center or a proscribed circumference. The language of deficit drops you on a linear path, where you are never enough, where what you do doesn't count in the larger scheme of things, where you feel guilt for not doing enough to save the planet, or where you do not always rise to your cherished shibboleths and values. Your job in this framework is to rack up achievements, faster than others, sooner than most. But what if life is a fractal with interlocking images, with parts reflecting the whole? What if life is a web, where past and present and future melt into a rapturous immediacy, glimpses of which we perceive in heightened moments? What if you don't have to beat yourself into shape? What if there is no outside force to which you must measure yourself? What if your questions, your imbroglios, and tooth-chips are just as sacred as ‘having it all together?’ What if you are in the most interesting place you can be in now? This home that is a dance with exile?”
~ Bayo Akomolafe, These Wilds Beyond Our Fences, pp. 283 - 84
There is, of course, a lot to digest in this short passage. For our purposes, I find myself left with some inquiries that I think are worth exploring.
Things such as: Where has the fractal nature of things (the small reflecting the whole) shown up in my (or, say, your) life and work? What does it take to disrupt the 'language of deficit,' and how does that language show up in my day-to-day (especially in relationship to work)? What happens when I (we?) let in the invitation that everything (from questions to tooth-chips) is as sacred as ‘having it all together?’
Mostly, I love the inquiry he posits toward the end: What if you are in the most interesting place you can be in now?
I'd love to hear how these land in you. What do Bayo's words invite into your life?
